Pierre, whoever, with the craftiness of a peasant, pulled a long face, and said that he did not care to sell; that his mother would never consent to get rid of the property where the Fouques had lived from father to son for nearly two centuries.

But all the time that he was seemingly holding back he was really making preparations for the sale.

Certain doubts had arisen in his mind.

According to his own brutal logic, the property belonged to him; he had the right to dispose of it as he chose.

Beneath this assurance, however, he had vague presentiments of legal complications.